Vivid

Chapter 1

Cold.

I can't tell if it is raining, or maybe my room is just cold. I didn't leave my room since yesterday, the day Mom got buried in Zorgvlied.

"You sure you'll stay here, Seb?" I hear Aunt Laura knocking on the door. She's outside my room but I can still hear her depressing sigh, "I know it's not easy, Sebastian. But it is no one's fau-"

"Don't deny the fact that it is my fault."

I should've come home that day, that day when Mom had a heart attack. I knew all along that she's sick and it is slowly getting worse but I didn't do anything. She's having a heart attack, and there I was in Paris trying to sell my paintings, ugly paintings. I can't even bare to look at them, I hate it.

"Don't treat yourself like this. It is no one's fault. Your mom would be mad if she hears you blaming yourself." I chuckled.

"But she's gone."

It feels like an elephant is stomping on my chest, crushing my heart and soul, when I said these words. There's no one to blame but me.

Suddenly, tears flowing down on my cheeks. I did not resist, I know I needed to cry.

"All of your things from Paris are downstairs. We will be leaving. Take care, Seb." Aunt Laura bid her goodbye. And now, I am all alone again.

I am used to be alone in the streets of Italy, I am alone in those art galleries I visited. I am used to it. But why am I feeling so sad right now?

When I was a little kid, my great grandmom taught me a lot of things in art. Even though she's very old, she showed me her old paintings, her brushes, palettes and many more. I still remember when she took me to her very old studio, it was full of cobwebs and dust, but it still looks beautiful to me.

I was so inspired at the moment, daydreaming that someday I'll have my own studio too.

She took out an old canvas, carefully placed it on to the large easel stand. I helped her bring out the materials, and she slowly yet confidently paints me.

"Just sit there, and stay still." I don't get Grandma. She told me that she'll give me her palette, and here we are in her old studio. Her palette is in her bedroom I know it, 'cause she told me.

"Grandma!! You promised!" I stubbornly shouted.

"Shut up and stay still."

Argh. Okay, I know that Grandma is also stubborn and harsh but I know she loves me.

After that painting session, Grandma gave me that painting and her palette. Like all little children, I wanna be just like her in the future. But after that day, she peacefully goes to heaven.

I strived hard to get into Amsterdam School of the Arts, and study Fine Arts. I know that I needed to learn more, I needed to work hard so I can be like my great grandmom. I don't want to fail.

After almost 4 years of having art blocks, running out of paints and materials, I successfully graduated and decided to go to Paris. I wanted to be in their art exhibitions, not just me but also my artworks. I wanted my grandma to be proud of me.